Getting it by the censors (?)
by Nightingale63
Summary: Hunter Clarington is nothing if not cocky. But the joke he proposes is pretty high stakes. Canon to S.4, ep. 8; my AU take on what happened post Sectionals competition. Naughty language, in English (and French). Enjoy! One-shot.


**A/N: I don't own Glee, Ryan Murphy and Fox do; nor any products or songs you recognize here. This is written for my fellow fans' enjoyment.**

"You are fucking crazy, and way out of line," Sebastian's tone was icy.

"Really, Smythe? You disappoint me." Hunter waited a beat before continuing. "Not much of a badass at the end of the day, are you." He said it as if it were the most casual fact imaginable.

"Such wit. Just give me a minute to compose myself while I get over laughing. Oh, except that what you said isn't even remotely funny." Sebastian stood firm, drawing himself to his full height as he glowered at Hunter, seated in the overstuffed chair, his goddamn cat lounging on his lap.

Hunter chuckled. "How you ever got your reputation, I'll never know." He held up a hand, as if to stop a rejoinder that didn't come. "And I don't care. It's fine. If you don't have the balls, there's no shame in admitting that." He grinned at his cat, not even bothering to look at Sebastian, whose eyes had narrowed so much you couldn't see what color they were.

"Everything's a big joke to you, I get it. Hilarious; you want the Warblers to sing that piece of shit song, oh, we are _so_ clever. I'm out of here," and Sebastian grabbed his messenger bag and stormed out of the Warblers' commons room. "Fucking stupid bastard," he muttered. "Merde. Salop! Ungh!"

Thad caught up to him, having to speed up considerably to do it. Damn, he thought. His roommate was fairly predictable, and very little could cause his composure to slip like that. Noting the descent from English to French to meaningless nonverbal monosyllables, his curiosity was piqued. "Sebastian! Wait up."

The taller boy whipped his head around, startled that he'd had an audience. They had a decent working understanding as roommates, and after the end of last year, had started to build a real friendship. Thad, along with the rest of the Warblers, eventually forgave him for besmirching the honor of the group after what they'd done to New Directions (and, worse, their former lead singer). More than anyone, Thad also knew how much his friend had regretted his role (albeit small) in the former McKinley football player's suicide attempt around that same time. They were both seniors this year, and were both focused on simultaneously enjoying their last year at Dalton and planning for college. Seb was snarky as hell still, Thad knew, but was surprisingly decent underneath his smirky exterior.

"I don't want to talk about it," his tone was flat, but his face still showed plenty of irritation.

Thad frowned. "You all right?"

Sebastian sighed. "Yeah." He looked at his watch, then glanced outside. "Thad?"

"Yeah, Seb?"

"You got time for some throws? We've just got time before dinner..."

"Ooh, that bad, bro? Really?" Seeing the pleading look on his roommate's face, he decided not to push it at all. Sebastian, he reflected, in some ways was a very simple soul: and when stressed his usual solutions were lacrosse practice, or dancing and picking up a guy at Scandals. Considering that the only part of that he could really participate in was the former, he agreed. "Sure thing. I mean, I love running around with a lacrosse stick in near-dark conditions, with rain threatening every second, and lots of wind and cold and shit. Favorite thing ever. You do know you owe me."

Sebastian grinned at him. "Put it on my tab. C'mon, let's go change."

* * *

Two weeks later, and Sebastian had to admit it: the number did look good, and sounded good too. He kind of doubted that all the Warblers really knew the lyrics, but that hardly seemed the point. The choreography was exhausting and showy on Hunter's song, for sure. Whatever. The Warblers had gotten sucked into Hunter's challenge, and he'd given up complaining about it when it seemed pointless. He remembered the full Warblers' meeting the day after his storm-out with Hunter.

"_Dude, that song is like, incredibly dirty," Jeff was smiling, but seemed uncomfortable._

_Nick frowned, looked to his boyfriend, and added, "it _so_ is. I mean, the online reviews of that piece of earworm are fucking hilarious. Head would kill us if he could understand them."_

_Thad had agreed, to Sebastian's satisfaction. "The show choir handbook does have rules you know. This is also unworthy of the traditions of the Warblers."_

"_Yeah. Like When I Get You Alone a couple of years ago. Very tasteful," Hunter added._

_Sebastian gave a 'what the hell?' look to Thad, who just waved it away. He'd get the story later._

_Thad stood up, and pounded his hand on what had been the Council table. "That, sir, wasn't done for a competition, and also was never repeated."_

_Trent piped in, "hear, hear!" The Gap Attack had made him profoundly uncomfortable, despite how fun it sounded before. He'd been right, though, since it had in fact backfired. Which he'd been fine with, for a whole other reason._

_Hunter waved their objections away. "This piece is perfect: the whistling is really fun and trendy, and damn, we are _good_ at it. We can do some fun choreography, really go for it on the choruses, and I swear we'll get it right by them. I bet we get those middle aged judges humming it on their way home, and that, my friends, is the most absurd thing ever. We should totally do it!"_

Sebastian and Thad had been the only real holdouts, but in the end went with the majority. They knew later they weren't the only ones regretting the song choice, but for different reasons. Hunter and Sebastian each had lead on a song for Sectionals, and each of them also took lead on choreography for their own song.

Sebastian had advanced them in their dancing skills quite a lot the year before, transforming them from being a virtual "stool choir" (with their conservative two-step moves and little else, relying on their voices almost completely) to a real show choir. Hunter pushed for what Sebastian and Thad called 'Cirque du Clarington' acrobatics, with a bit of dancing thrown in. Most of the Warblers were up for it, but Trent, never the most athletic of the group (by a long shot) had sustained a painful ankle injury that kept him from joining in, and had decided to sit this competition out. Sebastian had risen to Hunter's challenge, and the choreography for his number was also demanding, but featured a lot more actual dancing (his forte). He was very happy with how his number was going along, and looked forward to Sectionals, knowing they would blow everyone except New Directions away.

* * *

Artie shot a 'what the hell' look at Sam and Blaine, as they listened from backstage to their main competition, the Dalton Academy Warblers. "They are _not_ singing that. No way!"

Sam furrowed his brows, trying to catch the lyrics. "I don't even know this song, dude. So what?"

Blaine's eyes were wide, and he was looking towards the stage in disbelief. "Um, well, it's not … well, competition-appropriate."

Kitty overheard them, and narrowed her eyes. "My pastor mentioned this song, which of course I hadn't heard before that sermon," she added pertly. "Pretty nervy song selection."

Finn joined them. "Focus, guys. We are gonna kill it out there. Don't let yourselves get distracted, dudes. They can steal our Nationals trophy, they can try to steal our singers, but that just shows that they're desperate. We're champions, people. Don't let them rattle you."

"Word, dude," Artie answered. "Dayum! They do have 'nads, you gotta admit."

"Artie!" Tina squeaked, but she had a smile on her face. She loved how he could defuse a tense situation.

"And we've got talent, and class," Blaine smiled at Tina. "They are gonna love our opening number. Tina, your vocals are perfect, and our dance moves are da bomb." Everyone chuckled at Blaine's attempt to sound street, no one more than Artie.

"I still don't know what the fuss is about with that song, but whatever," Sam shook his head, confused.

* * *

New Directions had just finished rehearsing for a Christmas performance, this time in the astronomy classroom, and Sam brought it up again.

"Dudes! They cheated. They had to have! I mean, look at the video – that performance was like, impossible. I'm saying steroids, it explains everything."

"We have no proof, Sam. And steroids are dangerous; don't you think the Warblers are smarter than that," Blaine countered. "I mean, I think it sucks too, what happened at Sectionals, but we can't just go making accusations like that -"

"Blaine, just look at these guys! I'm telling you, there's no other explanation!"

Blaine shot a beseeching look at Finn.

"Fine. I checked the rule book. We can question it, but it'll be up to the board to investigate it or not. A few pictures and theories is pretty thin stuff, but I'll do it. I'll ask them to investigate." Finn looked out at his singers, hoping they would be satisfied. He didn't want to tell them what else he was investigating, in case it didn't work out; he didn't figure they needed false hope. "People, this was a good rehearsal. Remember, same time Wednesday, in the caf."

* * *

Wendy Patterson frowned at the request on her screen. She wasn't surprised that last year's National champions were trying to continue to compete, but she didn't like part of it, not at all. "Joe? Can you talk to me for a minute?"

"Sure, Wendy. Problem with Regionals logistics?" They were both volunteers, working to help coordinate this level of the competition. They'd worked to choose a locale that was as accessible to the competitors as possible, minimizing costs where they could.

"No, not that. New Directions is asking us to investigate the Warblers. Accusation of steroid use, if you can believe it."

Joe snorted in disbelief. "No way! Those guys are smarter than that."

"Should be easy, then, right?" She smiled at him.

Wendy was the youngest of their volunteers, and had only been out of college a couple of years. She'd been a Regionals show choir champion herself, and he knew that she felt giving back was important.

"I wouldn't count on it." Joe sighed. "Here's what we do; first we have to watch the video of the competition, make some notes, then get ready to contact whoever the faculty advisor for the Warblers is. Ready?"

"I'm a step ahead of you. Just gotta hit play." Wendy listened to the opening notes, and they both watched as the Warblers sang, danced, and tumbled their way through the first song. She paused the video, and started to laugh, then laughed so hard Joe thought she might pee.

"Wendy? You okay?"

She eventually was able to get up, with Joe's help, and catch her breath. "Wendy? What the hell was so funny?"

"You don't know, do you," she giggled. "No, clearly you don't." She tapped a few keystrokes on the computer, and Joe found himself looking at a Youtube review of the song.

"Wendy? That's not the Warblers' rendition. Why are we watching this?"

"Just watch." And she hit play.

* * *

The video ended, and Joe faced her. "Holy shit! I mean, that's funny as hell, but …_ oh my God_!"

"I know, right?" Wendy looked on the verge of losing it again.

"They can't do that! I mean, there are rules..." he trailed off.

"I'm ahead of you there, bucko." She clicked on the online version of the show choir rules, and highlighted the relevant passage. "We can DQ them with this, right there; no messy need to invesigate drugs or anything else."

"How the hell did this get past the Sectionals committee?" Joe wondered.

Wendy made a funny duckface. "I dunno. What's their average age, again? Like, older than my parents, I think."

* * *

Hunter strode into rehearsal, brandishing the letter from Regionals. "All right, Warblers, here it is. Have a seat, everyone." He smirked at Sebastian, and raised an eyebrow. For all the clashing they'd done, if the Council still existed, he'd want him on it. "Perhaps you'd like to do the honors."

Sebastian grinned. Sure, he figured, I can handle being on the losing end of an argument. Besides, he was sure his number had been better; everyone had told him so. He took the letter, opened it, and unfolded it. Everyone noticed as his face drained of color, and he handed it back to the Warblers' captain wordlessly.

* * *

"All right, everyone, listen up!" Finn entered the choir room, now bare, and wrote one word on the whiteboard: Regionals.

New Directions erupted into loud cheers: so this explained it: they were back in the choir room and somehow back to competing.

"We've got a lot of work ahead of us, people, let's make Mr. Schue proud!"

**A/N: So, there's my take on this. The show choir rule book would have an anti lewdness provision (applicable to costumes, choreography, and song selection), and Hunter's snarky gamble didn't pay: once someone actually checked on the song (it was hard to hear the lyrics, unusual for a competition), that would be enough right there to disqualify them.**

**Where did this come from, you ask? I blush to say, my son's observation of the fact that I found the song, as performed on Glee, kind of fun and catchy (despite not being able to make out a lot of the lyrics). I quote my 19 year old son, "Mom, that song is like, _really_ dirty. And lame." And he and his friends loved mocking it, and then I saw the review videos. As George Takei would say, "Oh my!" Also, don't like the drug angle (or lots of other things about the Sadie Hawkins episode).**

**Thoughts? I do hope you enjoyed this!**


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